


Perfection, Darling

by FalconStrike



Series: Laelia Trevelyan [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Gen, Insecurity, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Parent-Child Relationship, Parenthood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 09:54:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8139758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FalconStrike/pseuds/FalconStrike
Summary: Some fifteen years after the events of Inquisition, Inquisitor Trevelyan has a moment with her daughter.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is an "epilogue" piece to a fan-fiction that I won't be posting for a while yet.

“Mother, can I talk to you?” The hesitant voice of Laelia's daughter came from the doorway.

“Of course,” Laelia said, turning away from the gilded mirror where she stood, lining her intense purple eyes with kohl. 

Laelia looked nothing like her daughter, a thought that saddened the girl. She liked the way her mother's dark skin looked against the blue gown she wore. She also wished she had her mother's dark brown hair that was easily pulled back into the complex Orlesian styles.

Laelia crossed the room to the grand bed she shared with her husband and sat lightly on the edge and beckoned for her daughter to join her. Her voice was surprisingly soft when she spoke, a stark contrast to her powerful voice as Inquisitor. “Iora, dear heart, what's wrong?”

Iora crossed the room and sat down beside her mother. Her black hair fell in her eyes and she looked away. Laelia brushed the hair out of her green eyes and gently guided her to look into her mother's eyes with a light hand under her chin. Perfection, darling.

“Mother, why did you choose me?” Iora asked, her voice stained. The emotion was bright in her pale green eyes and the corners of her mouth turned down unhappily.

“Iora, I didn't choose you,” Laelia said carefully. “When your father and I found you, I knew that you were ours. It was as though we'd lost you, but didn't know it until we found you.”

“But I'm not yours by blood,” Iora protested. “I'm not like Killian or Le'al! And I'm- I'm a- a-”

“A knife-ear?” Laelia supplied and Iora nodded. She frowned at her daughter and said, “It doesn't matter to me that you're an elf. No, I shouldn't say that. It matters because you'll have challenges to face that your brothers won't, but it doesn't mean that I love you any less. I'm more proud of you than you'll ever know, Iora. I love you as much as I love Killian and Le'al. Does that make sense?”

Iora looked contemplative for a moment and finally said, “I guess.”

“Mother, why did you name me Iora?” She asked, frowning slightly.

Laelia sighed softly, startling Iora. When she spoke, her voice and eyes were distant, whatever she was remembering seemed painful. “I knew an elven woman, one of the strongest and most admirable people I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. I worked with her for a time during the Inquisition.” Her voice became stronger and she fixed Iora with her intense gaze. “When you couldn't tell us your name, it felt fitting to give you hers.”

“What happened to her?” Iora asked quietly.

“I haven't seen her since the Inquisition, but she's married to a man like your father,” Laelia's eyes danced with some untold amusement as she said this. She sobered again and continued, “I hope she's doing as well as I am…”

With that, Laelia stood up. She gave herself a once over in the mirror and nodded with satisfaction. She offered her hand to Iora and her daughter stood up as well. Looking in the mirror, mother and daughter were as different as night and day--Laelia was dark skinned with dark brown hair and purple eyes while Iora was pale with black hair and green eyes--but they were kindred spirits if nothing else.

Perfection, darling.

Laelia looped her right arm, her remaining arm, with Iora’s left arm and led her from the room. She smiled, saying, “Your father will be home soon with your brothers and Uncle Dorian, dear heart, we best be ready.”

Perfection, darling, that's what you are.


End file.
